Fumbling Towards Ecstasy
by jojogirl
Summary: Brooke pulls her jacket closer, feeling rather chilly. She doesn’t want this night to end like this. She wants it to mean something. BL one shot.


**Author's Note:** This is a one shot B/L fic set in season 1, before their break up. Thanks to everyone who helped me in some way or another: Sarah, Camilla and of course Ella. This is to my pervy ladies!

**Disclaimer:** Don't own "Hands Down" by Dashboard Confessional or "Fumbling Towards Ecstasy" by Sarah McLachlan. Don't own One Tree Hill or its characters, either.

Feedback is love.

**Fumbling Towards Ecstasy**

"Great game, man!"

Jake slaps Lucas on his bare shoulder on his way out and earns a goofy but proud grin.

"Bye. Greet your girl from me!"

"Yeah, you too." Jake grins back and leaves.

The locker room is full of sweaty guys and they are all on this particular male post-game-high that comes with a victory. Everyone is in a good mood and even Nathan is not as hostile as usual and it seems that for a short while, they actuallyare a _team_.

"Did you see those cheerleaders?" Vegas' voice booms through the showers. It is better than hearing him sing anyway.

"The other team sucked but at least their ladies made up for it..." He trails off dreamily and makes an accompanying, _very _inappropriate gesture. He is immediately joined by a just as eager looking Tim.

_Figures,_ Lucas thinks.

"I know." Tim is slapping himself on the chest cave man style. "They were caliente! Tonight the Timster might just get lucky with one of those visiting senoritas!"

"Tim, I think even the cheerleaders of the opposing team are not desperate enough to hook up with you," Nathan laughs. It doesn't sound nice. Sometimes Lucas wonders why they're even friends.

That is until Nathan behaves like an ass again.

Tim, however, does not really care for the scorn of his best friend. If someone there was ever was ignorant to sarcasm it is Tim Smith. He even manages a comeback.

"Jeez. Someone is uptight. You need to get laid, too, Nate. If the uptight tutor won't let you get to more than first base -"

This time Lucas cuts in. "Leave Haley alone."

It earns him a respectful glance from Nathan who actually walks comes over to his locker, acting all cool, flouncing his back against it. With his towel thrown casually over his muscular shoulders his body language is that of someone extremely comfortable in their own skin. Or at least that of someone who wants to pass off as being extremely comfortable in their own skin.

"Um, there's this party at my place later. Wanna come?"

As far as offers for a ceasefire with Nathan go, this is one. Lucas' apologetic shrug is earnest.

"I would but I can't."

"Sure. Other plans?" That's about the most Nathan has ever spoken to him without yelling and Lucas figures it would be wise to answer, to give some sort of explanation, do some male bonding.

He smiles lopsidedly, a little mischievous even.

"Date with Brooke."

"Ahh." Nathan smirks knowingly. "Well maybe, after you're done…"

"Yeah," Lucas answers. "Maybe."

"Scott is getting laid tonight! High-five!" Tim's offered hand is duly ignored by Lucas. That is _too much_ male bonding.

Instead, he turns away to pull his shirt over his head and ruffle the towel through his wet hair. Tim looks like a scolded dog.

"Aw come on! We all know Brooke Davis is very generous in that -"

Tim wiggles his eyebrows and if it wouldn't make Lucas so angry it would be actually kind of amusing. "- _department_."

"And whatever is that supposed to mean?" Lucas has nothing against locker room talk but when the subject is his girlfriend, it's slightly different. He is not sure how much Brooke means to him and he's never seen the relationship as some kind of epic romance but he cares for her and he doesn't want Tim to talk trash.

"You know what that means. There is no doubt about whether you'll get to score _another_ time tonight."

Again Tim wiggles his eyebrows congenially, and to his surprise, finds himself pressed against the locker.

"Don't talk about her like that." Lucas' voice is a low hiss and he pushes Tim just a little more before he lets go. He's not sure why he's that mad.

"What? Does that mean you're not getting any?" Now it's Vegas's turn to throw in his two cents. Lucas would rather he didn't. "It's one thing to date a pronounced virgin and be celibate," he sends a glance at Nathan who just raises a special finger in response, "but dating_ Brooke Davis_ and not getting laid?" He earns a few laughs from the other team mates. "How the mighty have fallen! Maybe you're not… _man_ enough for her?"

He feels a strong urge to punch his fist into the stupid face before him but instead Lucas just shakes his head. It's not worth it. He grabs his stuff and walks out of the changing rooms, ignoring Tim and Vegas giggling like schoolgirls.

On his way out, he catches a last not so sympathetic look from Nathan Scott. More like gleeful.

_Jerk_.

He's never going to try this male bonding shit again.

_The words are hushed, lets not get busted;  
Just lay entwined here, undiscovered.  
Safe in here, from all the stupid questions.  
"Hey did you get some?" Man that is so dumb.  
Stay quiet, stay near, stay close they can't hear...  
So we can get some._

They're in his car and they are making out because that's what they always do in his car on game nights. Come to think of it they do it on other nights, too.

And it has always felt pretty good but today Lucas' isn't that comfortable about it. He's still thinking about the talk in the locker room.

Now he's on his way to sleep with her and he just doesn't want that for tonight. He can't help but think about what those guys said about Brooke and he wonders what kind of guy that makes him in this scenario. He doesn't like the answers he's coming up with.

Sure he cares for her. She is great, she is fun, and she is easy going. Being with Brooke is a never ending roller coaster and he's enjoyed it so far, but he's not in love with her.

And what they're _doing_ - of course it's consensual but he can't help but wonder if having sex with her is the best idea. He's never really wondered what Brooke is getting out of being with him.

Not until now.

_Breathe in for luck, breathe in so deep,  
This air is blessed, you share with me.  
This night is wild, so calm and dull,  
These hearts they race from self control.  
Your legs are smooth as they graze mine,  
We're doing fine; we're doing nothing at all_

And though it costs him a lot of restraint and his heart is thumping in his head he pushes her back a little.

"Wait."

"What is it?" Brooke looks surprised. He has never turned her down. She is hard to turn down.

"Nothing. It's just...we don't have to do this."

He pulls her close, across the back seat, onto his lap. He is amazed how a person larger than life can be so tiny. As it is she fits easily into his tall frame, the skin of her bare thighs silken against his arm as she slides onto him.

It feels pretty damn good.

"You don't want to?" Her tone is disbelieving and of course he _wants to_, but maybe not now, not tonight. It doesn't feel right.

"We can just sit here." His voice is gentle and it startles her.

"Sure." She looks anything but. Her eyes are dark and for the first time in god knows how long he really takes the time to look into them. And fails to read whatever lies in there to see.

Brooke looks at Lucas, takes in his crumpled appearance, the simple blue jeans, his arousal so obvious with the bulge in his pants. The swollen lips and the heavy breathing. His pupils are dilated and she guesses it's not the low light of the street lamp. He's one of the good ones, but he's still a guy.

_My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me.  
So won't you kill me, so I die happy?  
My heart is yours to fill or burst,  
To break or bury, or wear as jewellery,  
Which ever you prefer._

Brooke is no romantic.

She's not a fool, either. But oh she wants him. _All of him_.

It's not something that has even been an issue before. It has never been an issue before, when she could have had any guy. With Lucas it's something out of reach. Now she wants it and she can't have it. Not like this, when his heart is still in the wrong place. But her hopes are flying high and she thinks that maybe, in time, he'll feel the same.

He looks so unattainable now but she has seen him in a much different position before. Brooke has no choice but to reach out to him, and she does, in the one way that she knows. There is a gleeful little part inside her that rejoices when he responds cause she knows even though she might not get the part of him that is elsewhere, there's also a side of him Peyton is not going to see.

So she kisses him and she hopes that it conveys what she means and she also prays that her hopes aren't going to be crushed.

Lucas is not sure how, but things have gotten heated again. He is slumped back against the car seat and Brooke is on his lap and she's doing all kinds of things that make coherent thinking a matter totally out of the realm of possibility. His shirt is half off and he has grabbed her by her waist and digging his hands into her warm flesh there makes him feel alive and glorious.

"Ohmygod." He is sucking her neck in luscious, lazy movements and Brooke can't help but whimper. She feels him buckle underneath her and she's not sure if it's because of the friction or if he's just impatient but then she realizes he's chuckling. He is such a tease. She sinks her teeth into the skin at the nape of his neck, wanting to repay the sentiment but she loses her grip when he reaches underneath her short skirt and begins to draw drowsy circles on her inner thigh.

Lucas enjoys the feeling of Brooke's body falling limp against him, of her giving up control, letting down her guard. He drags his thumb across the inside of her thigh, riding up higher and higher and realizes that he craves to watch her lose it, there with him watching; but he's still a 16 year old male and when she slips her hands underneath the waistband of his jeans and grips his erection through his boxer shorts, the thought evades his mind.

He feels silken against her fingers and he moves into her hand and Brooke smiles. The need between them is raw and open. She can hear it, in his voice and she can feel it warm and pulsating between her fingers.

If he doesn't put a stop to it, it'll be over in a matter of seconds, so Lucas gently pulls her hand away. She is wearing far too much clothing for his taste; he needs to feel her hot skin against his own.

It's a wonder she got her uniform off because there is really not much room but somehow Brooke has managed and now Lucas is above her, his weight pushing her into the seat, the nylon fabric rough against the soft skin on the back of her thighs. She still has her panties on, but even in the confined space of the truck, he is pretty quick at pulling down her bra. (He's never been good with the clasp and the thought makes her smile underneath his warm, searching mouth.)

Before, she was never into a lot of foreplay. Sex was more about turning boys into goo in her hands, having some sort of power shift. She's always enjoyed watching their faces losing it but with Lucas it's different. She wants to keep her eyes open but the next moment he has her writhing and moaning and she's not sure why cause she's had more experienced guys before. She's not sure what it is but with Lucas, every inch of her body aches for his touch. Her breast spill out of the garment and her erect nipples graze against his chest, crying to be taken into his hot, wet mouth. Her throat feels dry and she's light headed and her leg is starting to get numb but she feels his lips and teeth and tongue on her breasts and then her belly, moving down her abdomen. His mouth is soft and warm and moist and cruel like butterfly wings. The touch is gentle and leaves her yearning and it's the fucking hottest thing she's ever felt.

He moves down his lips down further and kisses her through her black panties, right _ther_e and he has no idea if he's doing it right but he's going by instinct and it doesn't seem to betray him because she lets out that little sound, that hiss from deep down in her throat. Its low and drawn out and probably the sexiest thing he's ever heard.

Her stomach is tight with want and the arousal is running like a red hot cord through her body. She has to have him and she wants to leave a mark on him, wants to run her nails down his back and chest, across his nipples. She wants to possess him and have her hold her like a child and rock her gently and all that _at the same time_ and she wants the kind of intimacy she has never had. It's like an undefined want recently discovered but she has this suspicion that it's been there _all along_ and something in this boy has woken the sleeping dogs. Brooke is not sure if that's a good thing but she's way beyond a point where she could stop so her only choice is to let herself fall deeper down the spiral.

She pulls him upwards to kiss him and the need to feel his weight on top of her is instinct, something way beyond reason. She shortly wonders if he's feeling the maelstrom, too. His body is hot and firm and comforting and she can feel his erection through the thick denim of his jeans against her own heat and it's _not nearly enough_.

Then, after like an eternity of struggling with the resisting fabric he has rid himself of that _hideous_ pair of jeans and _finally_ their naked bodies glide together in one beautiful, smooth motion. Somehow, at some point the sex with him has lost the initial awkwardness because he knows a little more now and is not as clumsy anymore but sometimes it's still just a teensy bit sloppy, and somehow she loves him more for it. She loves the fact that he can't open her bra clasp with one hand and she loves that his fingers tremble when they search for her entrance and she loves that he's still fumbling around a bit before he enters her.

She knows she should get him to put on protection but she needs to feel him _just for a moment_ and then she's floating and shefeels the tip of his erection against her, down _there_ where everything is soft and moist and aching and without wanting it, her hips just move upward a little, finding him naturally and she's so wet that his first few inches glide into her.

She's there underneath him and it's all soft and wet and slippery and she moves so his tip glides down to her entrance and he doesn't know how but somehow he's suddenly inside her, a little. He is shocked because it happens so fast and because they're being so unbelievably reckless and he pulls back.

"Wait," he whispers and the words are hot and moist against her neck

She halts and freezes and is a little ashamed that she let herself get carried away like that. What is happening? She is Brooke Davis, queen of safe sex. She's always safe, always. She has to be safe, especially with Lucas; she has to keep her head on straight.

"I'm sorry," she breathes and he nods in her shoulder and then he turns to the side to fumble in his jacket for a condom.

There is an awkward little moment where he struggles to put it on because he's so rushed and she knows its cause he wants her so much and the thought makes her happy. Then he is above her, and weirdly enough he hesitates a little. She looks into his eyes and they are glazed over with desire and she knows that look well cause she has seen so many eyes look like that and still with him, it's like it's something new and she resents and loves him for that. She places her hands on his back and its slick with sweat and the muscles are tight from holding back and she lets her hands glide down to the curve of his ass and he follows her guidance and enters her. She thinks it's the cutest thing that he makes that _guhh_ sound and that he has to shut his eyes while he's doing it as if the sensation is too much for him.

Lucas is inside her and then he feels how she tilts her hips upwards and it startles him because she knows _just what to do_ and she knows what it's doing to him and also cause it _feels so fucking good_ and his hips buckle in response of their own accord.

_Shit_.

She does this really mean thing with her hips and she has to giggle a little when she sees how his head falls backwards and his eyes roll backwards and he groans when their hips meet in _that place_ and she feels powerful and in control cause she can do that to him.

She watches the frown on his face.

"Are you thinking about basketball statistics?"

"Yes." It's barely a word, more like a sigh. "And of Tim in the shower."

"What?" She breaks out in a fit of laughter and her body shakes and he almost slides out of her again.

"It's the most un-erotic thing I could come up with." He says it with complete earnest and an expression of utter concentration marked on his face and then he grips her by the shoulders and presses into her again and she loses coherent thought.

When he comes she pulls his head into the crook of her neck, and cradles him while he buckles and lets out that sound she's sure only she has ever heard. She doesn't want to see the look in his eyes in that moment but she's glad to hold him there, in her arms and further down and rock him gently until he's recovered his breath.

_The words are hushed, lets not get busted;  
Just lay entwined here, undiscovered.  
Safe in here, from all the stupid questions.  
"Hey did you get some?" Man that is so dumb.  
Stay quiet, stay near, stay close they can't hear...  
So we can get some._

Afterwards Lucas lies on his back with Brooke curled up next to him and he's staring at the tacky textile covered ceiling of the truck. He turns his head to look at her face only to find she has fallen asleep. The night air is creeping into the car, cool and moist and he spreads his jacket over her shoulders so she won't get cold.

He feels oddly responsible and a little ashamed. She is giving herself to him so openly and he's not sure if he can return the sentiment.

In the brittle light she looks frail and small, as if it's her spirit that creates her presence, nothing more.

His fingers ache to touch her in a way that doesn't elicit moans and so he turns to the side and buries his face in her hair, hoping to bury his guilt, too.

_Hands down this is the best day I can ever remember,  
I'll always remember the sound of the stereo,  
The dim of the soft lights,  
The scent of your hair that you twirled in your fingers  
And the time on the clock when we realized it's so late  
And this walk that we shared together._

When she wakes up again she finds a large arm draped across her stomach and then, after she has found her mobile in the pile of cloths on the floor, she lets out a yelp, causing said arm to jerk.

"Shit!"

"What?" He looks at her with startled, tired eyes and hair sticking out and she has to giggle a little.

"I think it's _way_ past your curfew, boyfriend."

"What?" She shows him the mobile and he let's out a low curse.

"My mom's gonna kill me."

He tries to get his jeans on but he's pretty tall and there's really not much room and his efforts look rather funny. "Don't laugh!"

Brooke is still giggling.

"You know she's gonna ground me for like a week, right?"

This is when Brooke stops laughing and begins to hunt down her clothes as well. Lucas climbs in the front seat and turns the key in the ignition and they drive to her house in silence, but it's not an uncomfortable one.

_The streets were wet and the gate was locked so I jumped it,  
and I let you in._

It has rained and the air is heavy with humidity and the path to her front door is wet; the dark stones shiny in the low light of the street lamp.

Brooke pulls her jacket closer, feeling rather chilly. She doesn't want this night to end like this. She wants it to mean something.

Lucas watches her hunch her shoulders and bury her fingers in the sleeves of her jacket and he reaches out to her and pulls her close, breathing in the scent of her hair.

The humidity is making it curl slightly, and she looks younger than she ever has.

And then suddenly he knows that there is a chance that this might be something more, that there is a chance that she might something more.

And he knows there in this moment that he could love her.

She's already turning away from his touch, to go inside and he wants to keep her there, in the moment with him. He's not sure if it's the right thing but then her hands are still on his waist and he pulls her close and kisses her.

Her lips are warm and soft and sweet and she kisses back, earnestly, truthfully.

_And you stood at your door with your hands on my waist  
and you kissed me like you meant it._

He's kissing her slowly, gently, like a dance and her head is humming and she's melting into his touch and it's so different. It feels different and she's different and he kisses her and she's not sure how long and then she knows what's different.

He's kissing her as if he means it.

_And I knew that you meant it,  
that you meant it._

He wants to make her feel safe and secure and he wants her happy and he wants to pay her back and so he kisses her like he means it.

He wants to tell her that it's real and that he has felt it, too and that he's sorry and he wants to tell her to give them time and that it's ok and that he cares. He wants to tell her all this and he can't, so instead he kisses her.

And he means it.

_And I knew that you meant it,  
that you meant it._


End file.
